Soundless Voice
by cykekik
Summary: Miles Edgeworth is dying and Phoenix Wright has to deal with his emotions over the situation. [death trigger warning] [narumitsu]


**Trigger Warning:** death, and cancer mention

**Author notes:** I feel like a piece of trash for writing this but you know what, I admit that I had fun subjecting myself to this torture. This one-shot is loosely based off of the song "Soundless Voice" by the Vocaloid, Kagamine Len. However for those who don't know what the song is about I will give a gist. Basically Rin is dying and Len is mourning over her, there we go-that's all you should know about it.

* * *

><p>"No Miles, you can't take on this case!" Phoenix Wright slammed his hand on the wooden desk of Miles Edgeworth's office. Eyes filled with fear and anger, sweat rolling down his forehead as the tension between the two of them built up.<p>

"No Wright," a cough interrupted his line of speech. Though despite the interruption he smoothly returned to speaking, "I must. Nobody else is willing to; if that's the case it is up to me the chief prosecutor to prosecute."

"Edgeworth!" Phoenix growled as he witnessed the prosecutor arising from his seat, retrieving the files from his desk. Without a second thought, he jumped in front of him and grabbed Miles' wrist. He shook his head vigorously, clearly indicating dismal in the other's actions.

"Wright! Stop this madness right now," Miles flung Phoenix's hand off his wrist, slightly flustered at how stubborn the defense attorney could be. He bit the bottom of his lips before adding something on in a stern tone. "Wright, you and I became lawyers not for the pay but rather for a different reason… that I'm sure you know of. Think Wright. Do you really think I, Miles Edgeworth is that desperate for that extra bit of cash? Now excuse me, I have a meeting with Gumshoe about this case. Farewell, Wright."

Without a second word, the prosecutor walked out of his office leaving Phoenix Wright standing there in awe. Anger overcame the attorney as he clutched his head in an agonizing manner. His body shook as he groaned softly in frustration.

Four months ago, Miles Edgeworth was diagnosed with lung cancer. They expected him to live for another six to eight months, seeing that by the time they had diagnosed him was already too late—he was already in the terminal state. Still, with that he was unwilling to stay in the hospital. Edgeworth was one stubborn person that's for sure. Even though his subordinates were all concerned with his physical health and telling him to rest up, he refused. In return, he threatened them with their payroll and maybe even not let them to take on any cases.

Of all the people concerned, Phoenix Wright was the most concerned. His friend, his rival, his reason of becoming a defense attorney—and most of all, the person who he had learned to love was dying and still tarnishing his own body. Why didn't Miles understand that he needed to relax and rest up? Why didn't Miles understand that he was in no shape in prosecuting, deducing, and put under immense stress?

Shortly he left the prosecutor's office. As he walked down the busy streets of Los Angeles, many thoughts ran past his mind. He recalled his first case against Miles. Ah, the anxiety and anguish of seeing a familiar face with a 180 degree change in personality. Phoenix remembered it clearly. Edgeworth continuously making things harder for him, unforgiving and did whatever possible for a guilty verdict. Then he recalled the time when Edgeworth "died". Things sure are funny aren't they? Just a little over ten years ago, the prosecutor left a suicide note noting "Miles Edgeworth chooses death" and now he really was going to die. Phoenix chuckled in a melancholic manner at the irony of fate.  
>Apart of him still hoped for a miracle to happen. Maybe just like the case with Matt Engarde, a miracle would happen to Edgeworth. Maybe within the next month—or even week, a new medication would be invented and coincidentally be able to save Edgeworth's life? Another laugh came out of his lips. He felt pathetic. He couldn't and can't save Miles this time around—it was completely out of his ability. Phoenix Wright was not a doctor but he knew that as a role of a friend of Edgeworth's, he could do his best to be a good support towards the prosecutor. However, many attempts rejected, leaving him with a broken heart and a broken ego.<p>

The melody of the Steel Samurai theme song played as his phone vibrated in the pocket of his pants. Phoenix had a phone call and without any hesitations he flipped open his flip phone (who still used a flip phone at this time and age) and answered the call.

"He—"

"Hey!" A familiar voice called out in panic and anger. "Something gone wrong pal! Prosecutor Edgeworth has been admitted to the hospital, you need to go see him now!"

"Gumshoe—?"

"Now! Go! He's at the general hospital, go now!" Detective Gumshoe screamed over the phone before hanging up immediately.

A dial tone was left hanging as Phoenix stood idle for a brief second. Without any second thoughts, he dashed towards the direction of the hospital. Running frantically down the blocks, passing people and pushing them out of the way just so he could arrive at his destination—Phoenix's mind was a cluster of emotions. His heart beat was violent and loud like the drums at a parade, sweat rolled down his forehead as he gasped for breath. After all, he was never much of a runner to begin with. However, there was no time for hesitation. He must reach Miles before things were too late.

Few more steps in, he zipped through the hospital doors and frantically searched for the detective. Nowhere to be seen, Phoenix was beyond frustrated to the point where he would literally flip a table or kick a trash can. However, fate has brought him to Miles Edgeworth, who was lying on a mobile bed nearby as the nurses were pushing him to the operation room. Obviously, Phoenix followed and attempted to barge into the room, having the nurses block him out.

"Please save him, please save him…" He begged them repeatedly. Dropping to his knees, hands on the solid ground, tears fell from his brown eyes whilst Phoenix kept repeating the same three words over and over again.

Just then, Detective Gumshoe came running in, also in a panic at the site. Though he was surprised to see a crying Phoenix Wright outside of the operation room—if anything, the detective felt incredibly sympathetic towards the entire situation. He sat on the vacant chair, looking up at the ceiling and letting out a melancholic sigh. However, Phoenix never stopped crying.

"Listen pal! Stop you crying—"he couldn't believe he had said that, Gumshoe bit his lip. "Listen pal, the last thing he wants to see is you crying as if he was already gone. He's not, he's in there—fighting until the very last minute. You know better than anybody that he's not the type to give up so easily. Lighten up pal! Let's cheer Prosecutor Edgeworth on, c'mon pal!"

Though shocked at Gumshoe's sudden presence and words, Phoenix had no other choice. Gumshoe was right. There was still a bit of hope left in this situation, if anything Edgeworth needed his support right now and as a friend, he needed to root him on, no matter how slim the chances were. The spiky haired attorney nodded at the detective, agreeing on the modus operandi he had went with for this situation.

Approximately five hours have passed and still, no avail as to if Edgeworth has survived or not. Phoenix was growing anxious and restless while Gumshoe has already left due to another job calling for him. He let out a long stream of breath before he cupped his hands around his mouth, feeling that he might breakdown from all the self-imposed pressure and the incredible amount of anxiety he was feeling about Edgeworth's situation. What if Edgeworth couldn't make it, does that really mean their last words with each other was going to end on bad terms?

Just then, he heard the door click and before he knew it a woman in white walked out of the room. Operation lights were turned off. Phoenix stood up and dashed up to the woman as she started to pull the notes out from her side.

"How's Miles Edgeworth? Is he alright?" Phoenix couldn't help but to panic and his words came out incredibly fast.

"He's fine," the doctor looked into Phoenix's eyes before looking away, giving off a grave vibe. "Though, you might need to prepare for the worst case situation. He's still at risk and we don't know if he'll make it through tonight or not."

After that, Phoenix received the information of where Miles would be located. If anything, he was a little too impatient to wait and see him. No hesitation was needed; he made his way over to Miles' room for patients whose lives were in potential danger. Through the curtains, he witnessed Miles lying there, still as a log. That was something natural seeing that he had just come out of the operation room, anesthetics were used for the operation. It occurred to him that Miles was also having liver complications on top of his terminal cancer.

The attorney sat down beside the prosecutor's bed and simply stared at the other. No cravat was seen, obviously he was changed into his hospital gown. His face was paler up close. The fatigue, the physical stress, Edgeworth has been trying so hard to remain strong and independent—however, another notable trait was the loss of hair. He lost so much and the fact the strands were looking greyer than ever broke Phoenix's heart. Even though Phoenix and Edgeworth were rivals in courts, the two of them were more than just that. They were the knights of justice and their job was to reveal the truth in court. However, seeing somebody who genuinely cared about the bringing the truth to the light in bed so helpless and in such a horrible shape made Phoenix feel incredibly guilty.

Phoenix's hands reached out and ran his fingers through Miles' hair—accidentally, he pulled out two strands in between his fingers. He could feel his body start to shake at the sight. The strong prosecutor was weaker than ever. His voice hitched. If anything, he desperately wanted Edgeworth to wake up and say one of his smartass remarks. Clutching the duvet on his bed, his body trembled slightly in the weirdest mixture of anxiety and guilt. If a miracle were to ever happen in his life, please be right now and save Miles Edgeworth. Night after night, he prayed that this would be the case however, tonight was key. If Miles could make it through tonight, it meant he had some extra time left living. However, if he doesn't then, he needed to prepare to deal with the worst. Eyes widened in surprise, he gaped at the thought—he didn't want to picture Miles Edgeworth dead. He didn't want to picture himself standing in front of Miles Edgeworth's grave with a bouquet of white roses and left with the regret of unspoken feelings.

Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth meant the world to him. He was the reason why he became an attorney in the first place; he was the reason why he continued doing what he was doing despite the disbarring of his badge. Miles was also a good friend of his. Even though he was a little bit stunted emotional wise, the man still had a good heart and valued justice higher than anything else. Where in the world could he find another prosecutor like him—it's not a wonder why he became chief prosecutor in the first place.

A few snickers came out of him when he remembered the time when Edgeworth told Phoenix to lecture him on 'emotionalism' and all he could think of was how after all these years, Miles never really changed. Then again, Phoenix himself never really changed. Despite his growth as a lawyer and a human being, the college boy Feenie was still somewhere in him. Miles was someone he had trusted, then had the trust broken but somehow, managed to rebuild the broken trust that Phoenix and Miles once had with one another.

'Miles Edgeworth chooses death' those words had constantly ringed through his mind, echoing endlessly. Eleven years ago, he thought that he chose to run away because Phoenix broke his perfect record. He choked as he felt the tears start fill up the rim of his eyes. Miles was not a shallow person like that. Despite being raised a Von Karma, he still retained the good old Edgeworth he knew since childhood. A justice enforcer he was, a truth seeker like himself—Edgeworth was never one to care for a perfect record like Franziska Von Karma was. The DL-6 incident only brought them closer and gained more trust for one another. It was at that time that he understood all the pain, all the inhumane expectations that Edgeworth had imposed on himself. He was a Von Karma, raised by the perfect prosecutor with a fourty-five year streak of perfection, of course he didn't want to disappoint the name.

"Hang in there Edgeworth," Phoenix moved his hand over to Miles' and took it into his own. Eyes stared intently at his face, observing his facial features—at this stage, he's so frail, as if he was a porcelain doll.

"Hang in there," his voice cracked slightly. "We still need to bring justice back into this system right? We still have to restore faith back into the people right? I can't do this alone, I need a prosecutor—I need you, you need to get better—they'll probably have a cure sometime soon, I know it I just know it! Edgeworth please, make it through."

Who was he kidding? Those words were to console himself. If only some sort of miracle was to happen—if only Ema Skye spoke the absolute truth and didn't indulge him in his false faith. If only he could skip into the future and find the cure, that way Edgeworth would be able to stay alive and healthy. His grip tightened as the first drop of tear fell on top of his own hand, trailing down to touch the unconscious prosecutor's. It has been over two hours since he had idly sat there, rethinking his life story and moments involving Miles Edgeworth. The spiky haired attorney at this point was starting to doubt his own words that came out of his lips. Hands and lips trembling, he could barely look at Edgeworth. Then a smile came across his lips.

"Miles I," he paused as his voiced hitched, chest tightened and more tears came crashing down. "Miles I love you, I always had."

He pleaded for Miles to speak back to him—just one last time. Phoenix prayed to the gods to return Miles' conscious and voice just for that brief second. He begged so desperately, if only he could exchange their positions right now.

"I know Wright," a weak voice projected from the prosecutor caught Phoenix's attention. He looked at the face of Miles Edgeworth—eyes barely opened, and yet there was a certain look of joy. His lips were curled into a smile weakly. "I feel the very same for you…too."

Just then, a sharp beep came from the EKG. Edgeworth's muscles relaxed, head fallen onto the side. His eyes closed but the smile remained. The EKG never stopped with its continuous beep, agonizing the blue suited attorney.

"Edgeworth…" no response was made from the prosecutor at the call of his name. Phoenix kept holding onto Edgeworth's hand, feeling the gradual coldness arise from the hands. He was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. Then using his vacant hand he hit the emergency button, calling for the doctors and nurses.

At that moment, Phoenix swore to carry on Miles and his dream of restoring faith back to the people. He vowed, with all his ability to fulfill Miles' last wishes. Miles Edgeworth, born in 1992 became a prosecutor at twenty years old, chief prosecutor at age thirty-four, and now dead at age thirty-five—year 2028. It was near Christmas, snow was falling outside the window for the first time in forever.

The nurses and doctor finally made their way in, doing their procedures with Edgeworth. Phoenix was forced to the sides as he stared outside the window blankly. Just like how snow would melt, people too, would disappear. However, the memories playing in the snow were everlasting. People too. They may disappear and pass away but the memories, the emotions, and everything else will always be there—somewhere, deep down in their hearts.


End file.
